Remnants
Remnants for you,
but a treasure for me,
remembrance of gone days.
remembrance of gone days.
childhood spent around Grandpa
the star of my small eyes.
red sofa, his favorite spot .
red sofa, his favorite spot .
Sitting there so majestic
used to tell mighty stories,
and reading was a craze.
With broad outlook, clever so calm
never heard shouting but was strong
ready solutions just in hand.
That were days so filled with joy,
love, affection there in air,
he, so proud to be my gpa.
he, so proud to be my gpa.
Now also when I go there
hear him talking as before,
Hallucination might be, but for me just real.
It is written for The Mag145 where we have to write on a photo prompt.
11 comments:
Nice look back. Captures a mood.
This art has raised many memories to our fingers.
You wrote it well.
I would like to be that type of Grandpa.
Your poem is so vividly real and softly touching, Rashmi. Thank you for sharing your memories here. I love your writing! =D
P.S. Gail's words are profound here. Brilliant.
Sweet memories...
..memories of those days that still volumes today... You write here of your grandpa... And mine's in memory of my grandma... I guess, we're one when we saw the prompt image this week... Great write.
A beautiful remembrance Rashmi!
thanks for sharing this....nicely done
Charming...I so miss my dear grandpa...
Memories are stronger than hallucinations, breaking through the senses in a way that comforts and reassures. This poem speaks of that wonder.
It is wonderful to take in those memories.....wherever they come from. A beautiful write.
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